


Second Skin

by Mythologiae



Category: Disgaea 5: Alliance of Vengeance
Genre: F/M, Gloves, Killia's ass is hers and by default so is his property, Leather, Masturbation, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Seraphina is 1000 percent That Bitch, set roughly after Killia gets beat up by Bloodis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2018-11-29
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:45:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16698307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythologiae/pseuds/Mythologiae
Summary: What's his is hers; that's all there is to it.





	Second Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Sera gets almost no love in fandom and that's a capital offense, so here's some self-indulgent masturbation smut.

      It shouldn't surprise her so that Killia smells like spices.   
  
      Turning her head, she pressed her nose into the fur bunched against the side of her neck and cheek, inhaling deeply. The sigh that followed was rendered trembling and high by the drag of metal clawtips up the underside of her breast, which caught lightly on the fabric just-barely covering it. Unwilling to chance a rip, the fabric was tugged down, exposing the plump swell of her breast to the slightly chilly air. Immediately her nipple peaked, pebbling under the skim of the metal, a low, soft moan wrested from between her lips as the edge of a claw rubbed against it. Lips parted, then slipped over the edge of the zipper, set lightly against the leather. Mindful not to bite too hard lest the sharp points of her fangs give something away, she let the edge of that claw continue to trail a teasing edge around the peak of her breast, while the other settled, hesitantly, atop her thigh. The sensation was off, not as heavy as it could or should have been, if it were real. Arching her back, her shoulders connected with the wall of the closet she'd ducked herself into, momentarily pulling her from her fantasy.  
  
      Claws dug into her thigh, teased slowly along the strap of her garter, and she was more than content to ignore the inconsistency.  
  
       Her breath picked up and she released the fabric between her teeth, her nose pressed into the collar once again. Letting her mind drift as the claws skimmed up along the inside of her thigh, she wondered if he'd marvel at her form, the soft give of her thighs beneath his fingers. It was an easy enough thing, to imagine the slow, hesitant touch to be  _his_ , to attribute the silence despite her own quiet gasps to be his own reticence. He  _would_ hesitate, she thinks, stilling the claws- still far, far too light- against her thigh, just below the fall of her skirt's ruffles. Her Sir Killia wasn't a  _beast_ , after all; he was gentle and kind, and considering his reactions to her advances, woefully inexperienced. It would be up to her then, to guide his hands up to tease against the thin pink fabric already clinging to her slick skin. To make him press his clawtips against her clit and laugh when he inevitably stiffened at her moan.  
  
      (Hopefully in more ways than one, by that point.)  
  
      The thoughts coalesced into a hazy sort of fantasy, her mind easily supplying the background to her imagined scenario. Sir Killia, embracing her from behind at the thought of nearly having left her. Kissing her neck and running leather-clad hands slowly over her skin. Eventually settling back and drawing her against his chest, turning her head and kissing her deeply as his hands continued the slow, meandering exploration of her soft curves and softer skin. Eventually, he would be overwhelmed by desire for her, and would lay her down and make love to her slowly, sweetly, _reverently_ \-- the way a Princess like her most certainly deserved. It was, in short, the sort of hazy, rose-colored fantasy that she, until very recently, hadn't ever really had. Certainly, as a succubus, she'd had the occasional carnal thought-- offhand and fleeting. But never about anyone she knew... and certainly never in such prolonged, intricate imaginings.  
  
      It should have been embarrassing, but all she found it was exhilarating.  
  
      The mere thought of it excited her, to the point where her underthings became a hindrance to be swiftly pushed aside. There was no longer any real imagining that the hands touching her were Killia's-- not in the sense of the moment, at least. Instead, her fingers wandered her bared breasts, plucking at her peaked nipples, while her other hand worked gloved fingers over her outer lips, teasing herself against the leather and metal until the sensation began to make her desperate for more. The succubus inhaled sharply, tilting her head to better press her nose into the collar of the jacket, muffling the murmurs of 'more, please' into its depths as the fingers slid between her folds and teased her clit, making her gasp a whimper against the raised portion of her shoulder. Hesitantly (as she imagined Killia would, of course) a single fingertip pressed into her entrance, and she spread slightly around the intrusion, thicker than her own simply by virtue of the construction of the gloves. The difference was enough to thrill her, and further fueled her fantasy of her Sir Killia touching her so tenderly, making her tremble under his touch until she begged him--  
  
" _Sir Killia_ \--!"  
  
      A whisper, a whimper-- one barely contained against the collar of the jacket in time even as she brought the claw gauntlet up to her mouth, tugging it off and holding it between her teeth as her now-bare hand slid back between her thighs. The thought of Killia remained, even with the taste of herself on her tongue as she sucked on the gauntlet, using it to clench between her teeth as her fingers pressed up inside her. With the lack of privacy even in what passed for her quarters in the pocket netherworld, she hadn't had anything inside her in the longest time, so even her fingers are a pleasant fullness. Still, she could only imagine what it would be like, Killia pressing up behind her and spreading her carefully, pushing into her and filling her to the brim. The idea alone was enough to further stimulate her, slickness dripping down her fingers and further easing the passage of their rapid movement. Panting quietly, her head pressed back into the wall, pretending it was Killia's firm chest, her hips canted back, wishing for the press of a real body behind her.   
  
      One day, she hoped, it would be more than a wish.  
  
      Both hands slipped between her thighs now, her mouth still very much muffling itself in the fur of Killia's jacket. Pussy tightening around the fingers inside her, the added stimulation of other fingers on her clit made her knees weak, her eyes unfocused to the point where she had to close them. A high approached, and she chased it with fervent abandon, the thought of Killia's body touching her fueling the fever pitch of her lust. Her knees buckled as she buried her fingers in to the knuckles, clawtips dragging over her clit and making her give a low, breaking moan into the collar of her--  _his_ jacket. The orgasm ripped through her unexpectedly enough that she barely had the time to muffle herself, the high whine that still eked out around her clenched teeth hopefully quiet enough to be lost in the bustle of the netherworld. Slumped back against the wall, it took her a few moments to remember to extract her fingers, which she licked idly clean as she caught her breath, thighs still trembling from the sudden release of tension.  
  
      It really had been too long without the proper amount of privacy, not that a storage closet was exactly the height of such. Maybe she should invest in fixing that, eventually.  
  
      Minutes ticked by as she languished in her afterglow, trying to enjoy the subtle tremors still shooting through her as she slipped out of the jacket and gauntlets, holding them to her chest and pressing her cheek into what fabric she could reach once more. As her breathing finally slowed, the sounds of the outside came rushing in all at once, and she sighed as she moved to run a bit of damage control on the items in her hands, trying to ignore the warmth that ignited in her chest at the mere thought of the man they belonged to.   
  
      Not for the first time, Seraphina reminded herself that she was  _not_ in love with Sir Killia... but she couldn't be blamed for finding him attractive. That was all it was.  
  
      A lie that would have been far more believable to everyone who saw her trudge back toward the infirmary with Killia's possessions in hand if she hadn't been so adamant about being the one to (ever so tenderly) slip all of it back on. 

 

* * *

  
      It doesn't surprise Killia in the slightest that Seraphina smells sweet-- he's been in close enough proximity to her enough times that the soft, almost honeyed scent of her is familiar by now. What he doesn't expect is how he doesn't mind the fact that she's somehow managed to work the scent into his jacket, or how nicely it mingles with his own.  
  
      It's probably best not to let her know that though; it might give her ideas, and with Seraphina, that was always dangerous.  


End file.
